A Lie for a Lie (All In, #1)(35)

Robbie’s mother finally registers what’s happening in the dolphin tank, and her eyes go wide. “Holy hell, that thing is freaking huge.” She elbows her husband in the side. “Maybe you’re part dolphin.”

Her husband drags his attention away from her chest and follows her gaze to the spectacle behind me, eyes popping. “Wow. No wonder his girlfriend is trying to get away.”

All hell breaks loose as a little blond boy starts crying. “Mommy! The boy dolphin is trying to stab that girl dolphin!”

His equally blonde mother tucks him into her side and pats his head reassuringly. “He’s not trying to stab her, honey, he’s trying to love her.”

I really hope no one asks me to explain dolphin mating rituals, because I think I will likely burst into flames. “Okay, everyone! Let’s give the dolphins some privacy and move on to the next exhibit! Who wants to see the sharks? Raise your hands!” I shout into my headset, causing feedback to echo through the cavernous room.

Thankfully it distracts everyone from the fornicating dolphins. As I usher a few of the most distraught kids and their parents on to the next exhibit, apologizing profusely for something beyond my control but still insanely embarrassing, a man at the back of the group catches my attention.

My heart stutters as I take in what I swear is the familiar set of RJ’s shoulders and the distinct shape of his cut jaw. I took up sketching again just so I could try to capture the memory on paper. Yes, I’m that pathetic. No, I haven’t gotten over him.

“Excuse me, can you tell me where the bathroom is?” The woman’s shoulder is covered in spit-up, and the infant in her arms looks like he’s about to cry.

I drag my eyes away from what very well may be a complete hallucination based on the lack of sleep I’ve had over the past several months and point the poor mother in the direction of the women’s bathroom. When I look back to where my hallucination/fantasy was standing, all I see is a bunch of balloons.

I’m losing it today.

I rush to the front of the group and continue with the tour. Thankfully, the sharks are behaving themselves, and it’s feeding time, which usually goes over well with the kids. But not this time: one little boy starts crying again when he realizes that they’re feeding the sharks fish and calls them cannibals. Another boy asks if we’ll get to see the shark’s peepee too. His mother pulls him aside and gives him a stern talking-to.

I keep glancing at the back of the group, trying to figure out if I’m truly hallucinating. But then I get another glimpse of the man who came into my life over a year ago, turned it upside down, and kept it that way.

It’s definitely RJ. I wonder if he’s related to one of these hockey players. Maybe his brother relocated from LA or he has a cousin here. But as I take in the other men at this birthday party, I realize they’re all wearing the same baseball caps and T-shirts with the same logo, like it’s a uniform. And RJ is no different, his huge, bulky frame filling out the T-shirt that matches the rest of the men’s, all rivaling each other in size.

Shaken and very much confused, I lead the party through the tour, stumbling over my words more than once. Of course the dolphins can’t be the only ones acting up today. When we get to the sea otters, one of the males presses himself against the glass and rubs himself on it, licking the window. The kids think it’s hilarious, and the parents all pull out their phones and take videos. At least the otters aren’t trying to mate.

I’m relieved when the tour is finally over, because my mouth is dry and my stomach is in knots. I’d given up long ago on ever seeing RJ again or contacting him, and now here he is. Over the past year I called every alpaca farm in New York, but none of them linked to RJ, and without a last name it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. I can’t believe we didn’t even exchange last names. I hoped I might hear from him once he found the note I left for him at the cabin with my contact information; instead there was nothing but painful silence. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hold my breath every time my phone rang the entire summer.

I stand there, wringing my hands, as he weaves through parents and avoids stepping on small children.

His eyes move over my face in a familiar, searching way. I’m sure I look like hell today. I was up several times last night and had trouble falling back to sleep, so no amount of concealer could cover up my dark circles this morning. Also, my entire uniform is beige, and the pants have pleats in the front, so neither the style nor the color is flattering on me—or anyone else, for that matter.

He stops just inside my personal-space bubble, which makes my palms sweatier than usual. I’m forced to tip my head back so I can look at his face. His perfect, gorgeous face. He looks exactly like I remember, except his hair is shorter, as if he’s had it cut recently.

“God, I thought I’d never see you again, and here you are,” he says in that deep baritone that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

I just stare at him, incapable of ungluing my tongue from the roof of my mouth. He’s so beautiful and real. At least I think he’s real. I hope so—otherwise I need to see a doctor.

His brow furrows, eyes swimming with an emotion I can’t quite identify. Hurt, maybe? Or worry? “Lainey? Do you remember me?”

“Of course I remember you, RJ,” I whisper.

Relief softens his expression. “It’s so good to see you.” He wraps his thick, strong arms around me and pulls me against him.